


You May Make 'Em Stop And Stare But

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Grinding, Head Shaving, Incest, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: you could use a better haircut.Vanya has a bad haircut. Klaus helps her with it.





	You May Make 'Em Stop And Stare But

**Author's Note:**

> Song title came from _Better Haircut_ from the musical _Amelie_.
> 
> Betaed by the ever wonderful ElectraXT - thank you!

“What’s with the hat, Vanya?” Klaus said, looking over the rim of his coffee cup, one eyebrow up. 

“I can’t wear a hat?” Vanya’s cheeks were already turning the same red as the badly chosen hat. She pulled it a little lower over her ears. 

“You don’t usually, usually, no,” said Klaus. He was looking at her with a thoughtful expression, and that usually didn’t bode well for any innocent bystanders.

“Well, I’ve been talking about trying new things,” said Vanya. She was still itchy from her haircut, and she’s bought the hat on impulse - it was too warm for her to wear a hoodie, or she’d have been wearing one of those. As it was… well, she was sweating down her back already, but it was still better than walking around looking like _that_. 

“You’re hiding something,” said Klaus said. He had an unlit cigarette in his hand, and a canny expression on his face. 

“You’re suspicious,” said Vanya, and she resisted the urge to pull her hat lower. 

“You’re tied with Allison for my favorite sister,” Klaus said in a cajoling tone of voice. He moved closer to her, and he slung an arm over her shoulder, his long body towering over hers. 

Vanya snorted, but she was grinning in spite of herself. “Gee, thanks,” she said, 

“You’re the one who was complaining about how none of us ever take an interest in you or treat you like family,” said Klaus. “The fact that I’m annoying you is a sign that I love you.”

“Just great,” said Vanya, although she did like the close proximity. He smelled like cigarettes and perfume. “I’m feeling the love.” Klaus was wearing a flowy lavender dress, his feet bare. He looked cool and summery - she was envious, in her itchy button down and her stifling pants. He looked entirely too put together, considering it was the end of the day in high, stinking summer. All of Vanya was… limp. Over saturated. Too damn hot altogether. 

Then again, Klaus had been sitting in the house, while Vanya had been off at the orchestra, then her haircut. Everything was hot and humid, and going outside felt like trying to move through lukewarm pea soup. 

“So share it with your favorite brother,” Klaus said, his voice sweet. 

“I never said you were my favorite brother,” Vanya said, her voice teasing.

“Aw,” said Klaus, and then he was... grabbing her hat, and she was making a protesting noise as he yanked it up and off of her head. Then he stopped, and he stared. “Wow,” he said.

“I’ve got hat hair,” Vanya mumbled, grabbing for her hat.

Klaus was holding on to it tightly “That is the worst undercut I’ve ever seen,” he told her. 

“She wasn’t used to my hair texture,” Vanya said weakly. 

“I wouldn’t trust whoever did that to shave my poodle,” said Klaus, and he took her chin in his hand, tilting her head this way and that. “Forget poodle, I wouldn’t trust them near one of those decapitated Barbie heads.”

“I mean, Barbie heads can’t grow their hair back, so I’d think you’d be more careful with them.” Vanya sighed, as Klaus’s fingers passed over the patchy shaved parts of her head. 

“Seeing as neither of us ever had Barbie dolls to begin with, I think we may be missing some fundamental aspect of the process,” said Klaus. “You’re being pedantic.”

“I need to live up to the Hargreeves family tradition of being a pain in the ass,” said Vanya. “Keep the legacy alive.” 

“Why weren’t you a pain in the ass to whoever it was that _butchered_ your hair?” Klaus ran his hand along her head, and the stubble rapsed against his palm. Vanya bit back the shiver that was inching its way up her spine. 

“It was… awkward, and she seemed pretty proud of herself, and how was I supposed to ruin her good mood?” Vanya held her hands up defensively. “I’m pretty non-confrontational, okay?” 

“You literally blew up the moon - in another timeline, admittedly, but still - and you can’t even tell someone that they gave you a bad haircut?”

“It’s a process,” Vanya said, and she shrugged. She didn’t exactly _enjoy_ remembering the time she’d destroyed the world. 

“Luckily for you,” said Klaus, “I can fix this.” He put the unlit cigarette and the coffee mug down on the table, and he rubbed his hands together. 

“You can?” Vanya frowned, running a hand along the regrettable undercut. “I’m not sure I want someone else messing around with my hair”

“Vanya, if you can’t trust your junkie brother to cut your hair, who _can_ you trust?” Klaus said. He put his hands under his chin and fluttered his eyelashes like something out of one of Allison’s fashion magazines.

“Klaus...” 

“Can you think of any way I could make it any worse?” 

Vanya tried to find a good argument for that and failed. She couldn't imagine it getting any worse. “So you know how to cut hair?” 

“How hard can it be?” Klaus stretched, his hands above his head. His torso was very long and lean under the fluttery fabric of his dress. 

“You’re not filling me with confidence,” said Vanya.

“I’ve buzzed people’s heads before, don’t worry,” said Klaus. 

“I’ll try not to,” said Vanya. She almost meant it, too. 

* * *

“So tell me again why we’re doing this in the bathtub, instead of on a sheet?” Vanya stood in the bathtub. She had shed her shoes, her socks, her button down shirt, her pants. She was standing in the bathtub of her childhood home (albeit a different bathtub than the one down the hallway from her bedroom - this bathroom was a lot bigger, with a deeper tub), wearing just a white tank top and a pair of boxers printed with little raccoons. She was regretting the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, even though she almost never did - her nipples were hard, and visible through the thin fabric. 

“Easier clean up,” said Klaus. He was fiddling with a pair of clippers - when he turned them on, the sound seemed to drill its way into her head. She gritted her teeth, and tried to ignore it. 

“I don’t want you to cut off _all_ of my hair,” Vanya said, and she tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. “I want an undercut, not a crew cut.” 

“Relax, Vanya,” Klaus said, and he turned the clippers off, putting them in the thankfully dry sink for safekeeping. “Did you bring the hair clips?”

“I don’t know if they’re gonna work on my hair,” said Vanya, “since they’re for Allison’s hair, not mine.” She obediently handed them over, though. She’d taken them off of Allison’s vanity - hopefully her sister wouldn’t mind too much. Allison was in California for the next three days, so Vanya could put them back before that. More realistically, Allison always went a little weird about them doing “normal” sister things like borrowing each other’s clothes, things like that. So… hopefully she wouldn’t be too mad. 

“It’ll be fine,” Klaus said, his voice breezy. “You need to _relax_ , Vanya, before you have a heart attack before you hit thirty five.” He took a hunk of her hair, clipping it up and exposing the horrible undercut to the world at large. 

“I’m not good at relaxing,” said Vanya. “Bad stuff seems to happen when I do.” 

“Vanya,” Klaus said in a long suffering tone, “you’re not going to destroy the world every time you let your hair down.” He paused. “Or up in this case, I guess.” He clipped more of her hair back, and he frowned. “Christ on a cracker, this is bad.” 

Vanya sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. 

“What, for getting a bad haircut?” Klaus picked up the clippers again, turning them on. Vanya tried not to wince too hard. “It happens to the best of us,” he said, over the loud buzz. 

“For -”

“Vanya,” Klaus said, and he sounded… she wasn’t sure what. Not irritated, but also not _not_ irritated. “Please don’t apologize for the White Violin business. You’ve apologized for that already, and for all the stuff that went on with it.” 

“Yeah, but—”

Klaus covered her mouth with the hand not holding the clippers. “Vanya,” he said. “New look, new you. New you doesn’t have to apologize. Okay?”

“Okay,” Vanya said. She wasn’t sure if she could let go, but she could at least try. 

Klaus turned the clippers off once again, He put them down— again— and took her face in his hands. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “Trust me,” he said, and there was an intensity to it that seemed to go beyond buzzing her hair. 

“I’m trying to,” Vanya said, and she clutched at the front of his dress, wrinkling it. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you,” Klaus promised and there was that same intensity. 

“Okay,” Vanya said, and she took a deep, shuddering voice. “Okay. Do it.” 

“You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Okay. Let’s do this!” Klaus punched the air, then turned the clippers on _yet again_. “Unless you’ve got another intense emotional realization?” 

Vanya rolled her eyes. She could still smell his breath on her face - cigarettes and the doughnut he’d been nibbling on. “You are such a shit,” she told him, but she was grinning. The sound of the clippers was still worming its way through her whole body, and she was trying hard not to shake. She hadn’t had a dramatic haircut since she had left this mansion the first time around, and gotten rid of the bangs of her youth. If you’d asked her a year ago if she’d ever be willing to let any of her siblings— let alone _Klaus_ — near her head with clippers… well. 

She sighed, and then the clippers were pressed against the side of her head, and they were moving. There was a rain of hair, a fine dusting of it, and the clippers buzzed, and they vibrated through Vanya’s head, and her power buzzed in response. She wasn’t entirely aware of it happening, until the glass in the mirror was rattling, and it felt like everything was starting to draw itself entirely too tight. 

“Stop!” She hadn’t meant to yell it, but Klaus still pulled back, and he nearly dropped the clippers, then turned them off. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t… that sound,” Vanya said. “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to be helpful and I ruined it, I just… I can’t.” She was holding on to her powers as much as she could, although she was still shaking. The cessation of the sound was almost as bad as the sound.

“Huh,” said Klaus. “Did it bother you at the salon?”

“It wasn’t the only sound,” said Vanya, “and there wasn’t so much… tile.” _I wasn’t having so many feelings_ , she added silently, although Klaus didn’t need to know that. Judging by the way Klaus was looking at her, she might not have been as subtle as she thought she was. “I’m sorry,” she said, and the familiar words tasted sour in her mouth. 

“I can fix your hair quietly,” said Klaus, “but you’re going to need to trust me.” 

“I already told you that I trusted you,” said Vanya. “Trust you. I do trust you. And I trusted you.” She bit her lip, to keep more anxious babble from spilling out. 

“But is this ‘Klaus, I’ll let you shave my head with a straight razor’ levels of trust?” Klaus was unplugging the clippers now, wrapping the cord around them. “Because that’s the level of trust I’m asking for.”

“Since when do you use a _straight razor_?” The idea of Klaus wielding something out of a gory broadway musical was unsettling, to say the least. “I thought I’d be able to… tell.”

“What, my face isn’t cut up enough?” Klaus held his hands out in front of him. “Look, Ma, no shakes!” 

“Wow,” said Vanya. She still remembered when Klaus’s hands had shaken so bad he hadn’t been able to hold a cup of coffee without spilling it. 

“Ain’t sobriety wild?” Klaus waggled his eyebrows, then his fingers. “So do you trust me?” 

“I am going to be _so_ mad at you if you cut my ear off.” said Vanya.

“I’m not gonna cut your ear off,” Klaus said dismissively. “Now chill. I need to get my stuff.”

“What do you need me to do?” Vanya was still standing there in the bathtub, awkward as ever. She wished she could stop blushing. 

“Just… hold on a sec,” said Klaus. “I gotta get my stuff, like I said.” He was already on his way out the bathroom door. 

“Right,” said Vanya, and she leaned back against the shower wall, trying not to wince at the cold tile against her bare shoulders. 

* * *

Klaus, it turned out, had a whole shaving _kit_. It was pretty impressive, all things considered— it had special shaving soap, a horsehair brush, and a straight razor with a pearl handle. It looked like the kind of thing their father would have, which made it doubly weird, considering how scruff Klaus looked most of the time. Maybe the scruff was as much a part of his thing as everything else. 

“You’re thinking hard,” said Klaus. His fingers were cool as he rubbed lather into the side of her head, along the patchy spots. 

“How can you tell?” Vanya kept her eyes on the closed razor on the sink. It looked so innocuous from here.

“I can feel ‘em churning around in here,” he said, and he tapped her on the temple. 

She snorted. “I didn’t know it worked that way.” 

"Maybe it's a power I've got," said Klaus.

"What, a new one?" Vanya let Klaus turn her head to the side, so that she was looking straight ahead. The hair bundled on top of her head shook with the movement, and that was an odd sensation. 

"Telepathy would be a pretty sweet power," said Klaus. Vanya heard a quiet sound— was Klaus opening up the razor? She fought the urge to turn her head to see it— she'd said she trusted him.

"You think?" She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye, but couldn't tell what it was he was doing, exactly. Just a lot of fiddling, and billowy lavender fabric.

"I'm going to need you to not move now," said Klaus, and his voice was very calm. It would have been worrying, if he didn't also sound so... relaxed. His hand was on top of her head now, keeping it in place. "Because otherwise you might end up with a Van Gogh situation." 

"Might be nice to be remembered like that," Vanya said, and maybe she sounded more sad than she meant to, because Klaus's hand rested on the back of her neck, gave it a squeeze, then let go.

"Wrong medium," he said. "Now shush."

Vanya shushed.

It was very quiet in the bathroom, apart from the scrape of the razor and the wet sound of Klaus wiping off the blade. It moved across her head carefully - Klaus gave short little strokes, and the patchy hair rasped against the blade. She'd never had her head shaved before, and she was cataloging the new experiences in a way that was almost clinical. The blade was cold against her scalp, and even his fingers were cold, compared to her own skin. His fingers were also exceedingly gentle, as he drew the razor across her skin, his hands positioning her head this way and that. 

"Dad did this for me," Klaus said. She had fallen into a bit of a daze, and it took effort not to jump when he spoke. "Sort of."

"Mmm?" She tried not to move her jaw too much as she spoke.

"In the afterlife. He owns a barber shop. Or maybe he just works at one. But he shaved my face." 

"A barbershop?" That was unexpected. If she had ever considered what her father would be doing in the afterlife, she would have imagined something that involved more sitting on thrones of skulls or something of that ilk. Maybe running things with a stopwatch, making their torturing the damned more efficient. 

"If that turned out to be the old coot's big dream, it could explain why he was such a prick when we were growing up. He didn't want to be raising seven little darlings into superheroing, he wanted to be sweeping up other people's hair and making shitty small talk." Klaus pressed her ear forward, beginning to shave the hair off from behind it. 

Vanya couldn't really think of a good response that didn't involve moving her head, and she was acutely aware of the razor moving by her ear. 

"I wanted to prove that I could do it a little better than he could," said Klaus. He took the razor off of her head, resting it on the sink. "The old man thought I was useless, so I'm gonna one up him on what I figured was his big dream, as a final fuck you." He ran his fingers over the smooth skin on her scalp, and she shuddered, her mouth falling open. Goosebumps were breaking out across her whole body, her nipples were getting hard, and a warm tingling was moving up and down her back. 

"What do you think?" Klaus patted her on the shoulder. "You can look now."

"Right," said Vanya. She was dazed— shaking, wet between the legs and behind the eyes, for some reason. Her feelings had gotten stronger and stranger, ever since she'd gotten off of her meds, and some of it was taking some getting used to. She glanced over at Klaus, and Klaus smiled at her. He looked... sad? But there was something else there as well. She looked at her self in the mirror, and she stared. Her head was shaved to the skin along one side, and it looked so _different_. She brought a hand up to feel it, and her bare scalp tingled under direct contact for the first time she'd grown hair to begin with. 

"How does it feel?" Klaus's voice was very quiet, and it echoed off of all the tile. 

“Intense,” said Vnaya, and she shivered. “I’ve, uh… I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“Is it like when you’ve shaved the… bits?” Klaus waggled his eyebrows, and made a vague gesture downwards. 

“I wouldn’t know,” said Vanya. She was watching herself blush - it went from her cheeks, all the way up to her forehead, then up along her scalp. She hadn’t realized her blushes went up that high. 

“You’ve never…?” Klaus looked nonplussed. “Like, _never_?” 

“I never really saw the point,” said Vanya, and she looked down, twisting her fingers together. “I was, uh, with meds, I didn’t do a lot of, y’know, sex stuff, since I didn’t have much of a drive for that kind of thing. So most of the sex stuff I’ve done has been me doing things for them, versus me having things done to me, and I never really saw the point of doing that sort of thing for myself, since… you know, it’s supposed to be itchy and...” Vanya trailed off. She wasn’t sure what Klaus’s face was doing, but it sure was doing a lot of it. 

“Are you just going to let me keep rambling like this?” Vanya squeezed her thighs together. She was _so_ wet. How was she so wet? He had to be able to tell - there had to be a dark spot in her boxers, or something. Maybe he wasn’t saying anything to spare her dignity, or to be subtle?

Since when was Klaus subtle?

“I wanted to see how long you could keep going,” said Klaus. “So do you want to try it?” There was something very delicate forming between them, like a soap bubble taking up all the air in the room.

“Could you… could you maybe do it?” 

What was Vanya asking for? 

“You’d trust me with that?” Klaus looked impressed. 

“Klaus, I trusted you to shave my head. How is this any different?” She ran a hand along the side of her head, relishing the smoothness, and the goosebumps that went with it. 

“There’s a difference between your ear and your clitoris,” said Klaus, and Vanya was pretty sure she was starting to turn purple. 

“I value the both of them about equally,” said Vanya. 

“Well, yes,” said Klaus, “but—”

Vanya took his hand in both of hers, and she squeezed it. “I trust you,” she told him. 

“Well,” Klaus said, and his eyes had gotten darker. “We're going to have to switch things up a little bit, if we’re going to make this work.” 

* * *

Vanya was laying on her back in the bathtub, her hips tilted up. Her ass was cushioned by Klaus’s bony lap, the soft fabric of his dress fluttering against her skin. He was looking down at her pussy, and she was fighting the urge to cover herself with both hands. 

Her brother was staring at her pussy, and his expression was… hungry. He was licking his lips. “It almost feels like a shame to shave it off,” said Klaus. His hand hovered over her pubic hair. “It looks looks soft.”

“Well,” said Vanya, “it’s hair. It can always grow back.”

“Still,” Klaus’s fingertip was close enough that it was almost touching her. 

“Do you not—”

“I want to,” said Klaus, and his hand came to rest on top of her mound, his fingers stroking through the hair there. He _had_ to be able to tell how wet she was. He had to! 

Vanya shivered and stared up at the ceiling. The porcelain of the bathtub was shockingly cold against the shaved portion of her head, and it kept sending little jolts up her back, making her whole body that much more tender. When was the last time someone had touched her this intimately? Leonard, or Harold, or whoever the hell he was. Although she wasn’t going to think about that. Klaus may have been her brother, but she trusted him. Even for something like this. 

“This is going to be a little different from shaving your head,” Klaus warned her. “Since it’s so delicate.”

“More delicate than my head?” Vanya’s voice was deadpan, and it echoed off the tiles. 

Klaus snorted. “Fair enough,” he said. “Alright. A different sort of delicate.” She heard the sound of the sink turning on, and his upper body twisting, presumably as he leaned towards the sink. “Lucky for you,” he added over the sound of the water, “this isn’t the first time I’ve done this.”

“With someone of my anatomical alignment?” She probably shouldn’t have put it that way, but her head was spinning. Klaus’s hands were running up and down her inner thighs, and they were so smooth against her skin. She sighed, and wondered if she should have taken her shirt off. 

“Indeed,” he said. “So you have nothing to worry about.” His fingers left her leg, and then the sound of the water changed, and they were rubbing over her mound, over her vulva. 

Her thighs were going tense, and her toes were curling against his sides, wrinkling the fabric of his dress. It was soft between her toes. Her clit was already hard, and the insides of her thighs were slick with arousal. His finger traced over her vulva, smoothing the hair out, and then he was rubbing something soft into it. She could smell the shaving soap, mixing in with the scent of her arousal.

“I’m going to start now,” said Klaus. “Are you ready?”

Vanya, at a loss for words, gave an awkward thumbs up. 

“Okay, good,” said Klaus. There was another scraping sound, and then coolness across her mound. 

Vanya closed her eyes. She could hear the water running in the sink, weaving through her mind, and she let herself get lost in it. Her power was quiet, and she rode the river of sound. There was the gentle scrape of the razor, and then the sound of the water changing, presumably as Klaus ran the razor under it. Her breath was filling her lungs, leaving them. With her eyes closed, it seemed like she could feel all the places the cold porcelain was touching her, all the places Klaus’s warm skin was connected to her own. She was spinning, just a bit, rotating slowly, like on a record player. It was almost like using her powers, except also… not. She was in some distant place, floating on a cloud, only she was also under water, only she could somehow breathe. It was all happening a long way off, and there was a deep, visceral comfort to that. 

Klaus’s hands were delicate on her first on her mound, then pulling her outer labia this way and that, carefully maneuvering the razor to keep from cutting her, removing the hair. It was the most hairless she’d been since she’d stopped wearing a school uniform, and it was odd. The air was cool, and so were Klaus’s fingers. The water Klaus was rinsing the razor off with must have been warm— the razor was warm from it, warmer than it would be from being in Klaus’s hand. 

She wasn’t used to being so aware of her own body— of the way her nipples were hard through her tank top, and her skin was breaking out in wave after wave of goosebumps. Klaus was spreading her labia open to get to some particularly difficult to reach place, one of his fingers almost on her entrance. He had to notice how wet she was— it would be coating his fingers by now. He must have been wiping them off, to make sure it wasn’t too slippery, as he kept running the razor over her skin. She had never known him to be this thorough. He seemed to be chasing after any last bit of hair that he could find, his hands on her thighs or her cunt or even her ass, to have her right where he wanted her. For all that he was so skinny, he was surprisingly strong.

Or maybe there wasn’t much of her to begin with, so moving her around didn’t take much effort. She hadn’t ever seen him as the type to just maneuver someone around during sexual encounters— wait, did this actually count as a sexual encounter? Was it just her brother doing her some kind of weird favor? The whole family had always had loose boundaries— she knew that Diego and Klaus had their fair share of dalliances, and everyone knew about Allison and Luther. She’d always been left out of that stuff, the way she’d been left out of everything else. Maybe she was just reading too into this.

“Vanya,” said Klaus, snapping her out of her reverie, “you’re done.”

She blinked, then propped herself up on her elbows awkwardly, looking down the line of her own body - between the valley of her breasts, the soft curve of her belly, and there was her pussy, completely bare. 

Klaus was grabbing a washcloth from the side of the tub, rubbing it under the water still running in the sink, then rubbing it across her mound and her vulva. It was warm, thank god. 

“Oh,” said Vanya, and her voice cracked. That… sure was new. “You did a good job. It’s very smooth. Pink.”

“As smooth and pink on the outside as it is on the inside,” said Klaus, as if that was the sort of thing that was just _said_

Vanya blushed, but she kept eye contact with him. It was vitally important that she kept looking at him, even if she didn’t entirely understand why. He let the washcloth drop to the bottom of the tub, and his palm skated up her inner thigh. His fingertip grazed against her labia, and she shuddered. She kept her eyes on his, as he slid his index and middle finger along the line of her slit, then down, between her lips. She was so wet that he glided in, and she grunted at the stretch of it. She spread her legs as much as she could in the tight confines of the bathtub, trying to angle her hips forward. 

“Just as smooth and pink,” Klaus echoed, and his eyes flicked down at his own fingers, were they were sunk into her, up to the second knuckle. The heel of his hand was up against her clit, and he ground it forward. 

Vanya’s hips bucked forward, and she bit her lip. It had been so long, and all of her skin was oversensitive, practically humming like a generator. 

Klaus thrust his fingers forward, then curled them, and Vanya gasped, going stiff, then flopping back. She only just remembered to be careful of her head, and her shoulders took the brunt of it. 

“Smooth… and... pink,” Klaus said, and he withdrew his fingers. She whined, and then she wailed, as Klaus grabbed her by the hips and forced them up, at an angle. Her legs flailed, before he maneuvered her knees up onto his shoulders, It was an awkward angle. Her back was probably going to hate her later, but that was a problem for later. He leaned forward, and then he was licking between her labia, his tongue pushing inside of her, his nose right up against her clit. His goatee was raspy against her sensitive skin, and his tongue was as deep inside of her as it could get. His whole face seemed to be in her cunt, and his breath was humid, his tongue sloppy as it fucked her. He was drooling enough that it was dripping down between the cheeks of her ass, over her asshole. Klaus ate pussy with the same messy enthusiasm he did everything else in life. He was slurping, bending her nearly in half now, and her heels were digging into his back as she ground against him. 

Vanya had one hand covering her mouth, and the other was on her own bare scalp, then moving to tug on the longer hair, which was escaping all of the hair clips. Everything was just so fucking sensitive and kept happening, if that made any sense. None of it made any sense, but it didn’t need to make sense.

Klaus sucked on her clit, his tongue flicking along it, and his fingers were coming into play again, two of them sliding into her like a snake in the water. It was wet and hot, drawing the pressure inside of her tighter and tighter. His other hand was up under her ass, keeping her hips up so he could get deeper. He licked around his fingers, then returned to her clit, leaving her weak and thrashing. 

She was going to come like this— in the bathtub, covered in loose hair, her brother’s mouth hot and filthy on her cunt. She was panting and the sound of it was echoing, mixing in with the wet sounds of his mouth. They were all blending in together, until she was throwing her head back and sobbing, the orgasm crashing down on her like a wall of speakers. She humped forward and gasped, riding it out and letting it throb through her. She stayed rigid, her cunt pulsing around Klaus’s fingers, and then he was removing his fingers. He pressed his (wet, ick) face into her stomach, then shifted, so that she was fully on the bottom of the tub again, her legs spread around his knees. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against her smooth one, and then kissed her sloppily - it was weird to kiss someone right after they’d eaten her out, without the familiar brush of a loose pubic hair against her chin. She could feel his erection against her thigh, through his dress and his panties. She fumbled her hand down to squeeze it, her wrist at an awkward angle. 

He moaned, humping into her hand, and he kissed her. She could barely reach his erection, and his mouth tasted musky and salty, like her cunt. Her slick had sunk into his goatee, and sweat was dripping down from his hairline. She squirmed lower, until her forehead was pressed into his shoulder, and his bony hips were biting into her inner thighs. His cock was pressed against her now, through his dress, and he was going to have _such_ a wet spot.

Somehow, she didn’t think he’d mind too much.

“God, Vanya,” Klaus groaned, and his chest was vibrating against hers - it tickled against her skin. “Fuck!”

She ground her hips up awkwardly, and she reached between the two of them, grasping him. He grabbed the skirt of his dress, she shoved down the lace waistband of his panties, and then there was his cock, sticky and hot against her palm. “Oh,” she said. “Wow.”

He kissed the top of her head, then along the shaved part of her scalp. His cock was pressed against her inner thigh, smearing wetness along her already damp skin. And then he was pressed against her pussy. Not in her, just up against her. He was pushing the length of his cock between her labia, the head bumping against her oversensitive clit. He licked her scalp. She shuddered, and he moaned, the fabric of his dress fluttering around her legs. That was weird, but fuck did it feel good. His chest was pressing into her cheek, and his neck was craned at an awkward angle as he licked her again. 

“Vanya,” Klaus murmured, “Vanya, _Vanya_ , Vanya…” His voice was ragged, and seemed to rise and fall in pitch as his hips worked against her. His cock was throbbing against her, and it was so hot, so hard. She was wet enough that he was just gliding along the length of her cunt, and the sounds they were making were filthy enough that Vanya might have been embarrassed, if she wasn’t already so far gone. 

“I’m here,” Vanya murmured, and her hands were at his sides, clutching at the fabric covering his hips, bunching it up in her fists.

“You’re so smooth, it’s so hot, you’re so… Vanya, I’m…” Klaus licked her head again, and then there was a rush of wetness across her vulva, her mound, and he was going rigid, trembling.

Vanya made a surprised sound, and she squeezed him to her, pressing a dry little kiss to his chest. She pressed her ear to it, and she could hear his heart thundering, a million miles an hour. 

“I think I just came on you,” Klaus said. “Sorry.” It was obvious that he was trying to sound nonchalant.

“You don’t say,” Vanya said, deadpan. 

“And I’ve got hair on my tongue, urgh,” said Klaus, sticking his tongue out and making an annoyed noise. 

“You don’t have anyone to blame for that but yourself,” said Vanya. “You were the one who decided to _lick my head_.” 

“Still,” said Klaus.

“Right after you’d shaved it,” she reminded him.

“Well, okay, yes,” said Klaus. He nuzzled into her bare scalp, and his breath was ticklish. “But hey. I fixed it. This is why you should trust me.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind for the future,” Vanya promised.


End file.
